


two girls scavenging outside five feet apart cuz theyre not gay

by Eleanor_Lambb



Category: Far Cry (Video Games), Far Cry: New Dawn
Genre: F/F, Mickey Lives AU, Rating will change
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-06
Updated: 2019-08-06
Packaged: 2020-08-10 20:43:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20141710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eleanor_Lambb/pseuds/Eleanor_Lambb
Summary: Cap and Mickey's Best Friend Adventure :)(this is a serious fic I swear on my life)





	two girls scavenging outside five feet apart cuz theyre not gay

**Author's Note:**

> i am pulling out THE biggest brain ships. i wanna do requests too so idk maybe ill plug my twitter somewhere.
> 
> i love the twins and wish more people wrote them esp w/the option to let mickey walk LIKE the AUs are there. the wlw-isms is RIGHT there. mickey said gay rights

"Me and Mickey are gonna check out some of the abandoned cabins out in the West."

Kim Rye eyes her worryingly, standing behind her desk, "Are you sure you'll be alright out there alone with her?"

Cap snorts, waving a hand, "Of course."

"Don't tell me you _trust_ her," her tone is cutting.

The Captain shrugs wordlessly. Kim sighs.

"How long will you be gone?"

"Two days, maybe. Depends on what we find in the cabins."

Kim leans her hands on her desk, "Pretty sure all those were picked clean once everyone came above ground."

"Maybe, but my super keen eye might be able to dig up somethin' pretty," Cap winks from behind her sunglasses, "I'll bring somethin' back for ya'."

Mickey is waiting outside, arms crossed and leaned against the wall next to the doorway.

"Operation '_Scavenge - Out - West_' is green, Mick," Cap says, shouldering her bag, "All set?"

Mickey has been in Prosperity for just about four months. Other than patrols on the outside perimeter, Mickey was forbidden to leave Prosperity without a partner. Mickey didn't seem to mind too much, as long as that partner was Cap. And, while they had their murderous disagreements in the past, Cap enjoyed Mickey's company. And with the people of Prosperity still untrustworthy of her, Cap thought that bringing Mickey on one of her scavenging expeditions rather than another one of her usual squadmates was a perfect way to ease the tension that was just waiting to be broken.

At Mickey's feet was a large and weathered canvas travel pack. She picks it up, "Ready. Don't call me Mick."

"Sorry. Anything else you wanna do here before we head out?"

"Other than getting another can thrown at my head? No."

Cap stops, "Who did that?"

Mickey won't meet her eye, shouldering past, "Doesn't matter."

As she walks down the wooden steps, to the North gate, Cap scans the area. It's midday, everyone in Prosperity out and about, doing their daily jobs. A teenage boy on the steps stops playing with a rock in his hand, clutching it tight in his hand as Mickey walks past him. The children in the courtyard stop playing as Mickey crosses, quickly diving behind the painted rocks and planters. The small crowd of people parts, creating a clear path for her. The scattered few working on the garden hold their actions, eyeing Mickey from their peripherals. Cap shares a glance with Nick Rye, who shoots her a glare, before returning to his repair work on a beat - up car.

The teenager on the steps stands. Cap see's his arm pull back, rock tight in his palm.

She quickly grabs his arm before he can launch the projectile. He spins around, ready to fight, but his face falls when he see's its the Captain. She bares her teeth at him, ripping the stone from his hand. The teen attempts to pull away, but Cap pulls him towards her, her grip bruisingly tight. Their noses almost brush.

"I never want to see you, or anybody else, throw anything at Mickey. Ever," Cap hisses, low. She chucks the rock to the ground. It bounces off the steps with a hollow thunk, "Do you understand me?"

She gives the teen a shake. He whimpers, nodding.

"Spread it around. If I find out anyone is messing with her, I'm gonna assume it'll be you. I'll make you fuckin' _sorry_ for it, I promise you that."

She lets go, the teenager hitting the ground. He scrambles, then darts off out of sight.

When she looks up, Mickey is waiting by the open front gates, staring at her. She curls her lip in a half - sneer, adjusting her pack. Her form disappears in the trees.

-

  
The trip is less than eventful. It takes most of the day, the forest too thick for bikes, so the two walk. The Highwaymen think the twins dead, so the two stick to the forest to avoid anyone recognizing her. Mickey is quiet, five steps ahead of Cap. Cap kicks rocks and other debris away, swinging her arms. She never was very good at keeping still.

"_So_..." Cap starts, swinging her tactical bow, "What do you think the Highwaymen would do if they found you?"

"Kill me on sight for abandoning them, if I'm lucky," Mickey swipes at the brush, pushing aside greenery in a step - trodden dirt path, "But I don't want to think about what they'd do if they caught me."

"Ah, I wouldn't let that happen," Cap says, "They'd have to get through me first."

Mickey snorts ahead of her, "Then they're shit out of luck."

Cap grins. Mickey doesn't really joke with a smile, but Cap can sense the humor in her voice.

After another forty minutes of silence, the two come to the camping grounds. It's a large, empty area next to the river on the West side of the valley. There's six rotting wood cabins, overgrown with moss and flowers. A scrawny elk grazing in the center picks it's head up, darting off into the forest behind when it sees the two approach.

"This looks like it was a camping ground, at one point," Cap points out. She approaches a petrified wooden bench, running her fingers over the growing foliage.

Carefully, the two investigate five of the six cabins. As Kim Rye had predicted, the cabins were mostly picked clean. Cap and Mickey collected a few pieces of scrap metal and cloth, but nothing else of notice. Taking a large tarp, the two lay it down in the middle of the campground, piling their collections on top.

With her rifle in hand, Mickey approaches the sixth cabin. Unlike the other five, who's windows and doors were pried off, this one was still boarded up.

"You got somethin' to open this up?" Mickey asks.

"Yessir I do," Cap unhooks a crowbar that was hanging off the side of her survival pack. She walks over to the cabin, "Allow me, my fair maiden," Cap says with a flimsy and mock - delicate wave of her hand.

With a soft scowl, Mickey steps to the side. Cap digs the crowbar into the side of a wooden board that blocked off the doorway. It comes loose easily, nails falling from the board. Mickey leans down to pick up one of the nails, studying it.

"Nails are new," Mickey states, "No rust."

Cap kicks the wooden board she pried off, "This board isn't old, neither. No moss on the one side."

"This isn't Highwaymen territory. No signs or anything. Could be a scavenger's stash, or a weapons cache. Maybe a bunker," Mickey stands, "We might have company later."

"Maybe," Cap agrees. She places her pack down, drawing her magnum, "I'm gonna check inside. You stay out here."

The light of the evening streams into the cabin from behind her. It smells heavily of damp wood, and wildflowers. The windows are also blocked, casting the cabin in darkness. She unclips her flashlight from her belt, holding it under her magnum as she quickly sweeps the room. Like the other cabins, it's a twenty - by - twenty - eight foot rectangle. The log walls are threaded with wildflowers, greenery growing from the windowsills. There's an empty, almost too empty, open kitchenette, and a strangely well - kept bed in the corner. Cap looks up. Most of the roof is still intact. The ceiling is high, beams crossing. Cap kicks open the bathroom door. The toilet is _clean_.

"Freaky," Cap muses out loud.

"What'd you find?" Mickey calls from outside.

"It looks like someone was living here. Bed's made.....the bathroom is fucking _clean_, Mickey."

"No shit - hey hey hey, I found something."

Cap tucks her magnum away, clipping her flashlight back to her belt, "What'd you find?"

In Mickey's hand was a yellow lockbox, "This was under the front steps, check it out," She pops it open. Inside is a key, and a yellowed, folded piece of paper.

Mickey unfolds the paper, clearing her throat, "Scrubs - "

"Who names their kid Scrubs?"

" - Highwaymen are getting too intense out in the valley. Heading West, gonna see if Prosperity needs any hunters. I left your stuff in the safe. Peter," Mickey puts the letter back into the box, picking up the key, "You know a Scrubs? Or a Peter?"

Cap shrugs, "Don't know any Scrubs, but I know at least three Peters....and they're all part of the hunting parties," she looks at the letter. It's written in basic chickenscratch. Cap doesn't recognize the style.

"Well....I'm sure none of them will care if we help ourselves to his stash, right?"

Cap agrees, picking up her backpack as the two go back inside.

"If I were a scav," Mickey muses out loud, "Where would I put a safe full of goodies?"

The first thing Cap checks is the bed. It's large, and the more Cap feels around, she realizes that the previous owner had pushed two twin beds together. She feels along the mattresses, looking for any strange lumps. Finding nothing, she pulls the skirting blanket from around the bottom, looking under. _Nothin' but dust._

"I mean," Cap stands, looking around the dark room, "There's a key. Can't be a normal combination safe. No other rooms to unlock."

"Right. Has to be another lockbox," Mickey agrees. In the bare kitchenette, she opens the cabinets, flashing a light inside, "The stash could be somewhere else."

"Nah, I don't think so," Cap enters the bathroom, opening the vanity cabinet, pulling back the cloth curtain of the shower, "This Peter guy boarded everything up for Scrubs. If it was somewhere else, he wouldn't have tried to keep people out of here."

Exiting the bathroom, Cap looks up into the ceiling beams, shining a light upwards. A glint of yellow catches her eye. _Gotcha_.

"Found it!" Cap calls, "Up in the rafters."

Mickey steps around the kitchenette, shining her light up. She huffs, "Could've at least angled it so half the box isn't hanging out...anybody could find it," She pockets her light, "Give me a boost."

Cap drops to one knee, locking her fingers together. Mickey carefully plants her boot in Cap's hands, keeping her hand on Cap's shoulder. Mickey is light, making it easy for Cap to stand and hoist her upwards. Mickey latches onto the beam, legs lifting from Cap's grasp. Cap watches Mickey swat the box off of the beam, like a cat, hearing it clatter on the rotting wood floor. Cap quickly picks it up. It's the same as the one they found outside.

Behind her, Cap hears a crack, and Mickey yelps strangely. Cap spins around, just in time for Mickey to fall on top of her.

The box goes flying out of Cap's hand as she hits the ground. Her head bounces off the floor, pain shooting up the back of her head. Vision blurry, she groans, staring upward. Mickey's nose is an inch away, and Cap's body flushes when she realizes that Mickey's chest and hips are flushed together with hers.

_Ah, shit_.

After Cap had spared her and took her back to Prosperity, Cap made sure to keep a close eye on Mickey. But that close eye quickly evolved into a more distant, embarrassed eye, because Mickey was _gorgeous_. From her piercings, to her tattoos, to her hair, to the somberness of her voice that she tries to hide when Cap finds her sitting alone. Not particularly sad, more lonely than anything. But she's an analytical mind, who thinks of the future, who never lets impulse overtake her. The total opposite of Cap, who thinks with her heart and wherever the thrum of adrenaline brings her.

Mickey pushes herself up with a grunt, sitting on Cap's hips, "Nice catch, Captain."

"It's, uh, it's just Cap."

Mickey's head cocks, staring down, "Why do you need a nickname for a title?"

Cap shrugs look anywhere, anywhere, that isn't at Mickey, "Dunno. I like the way it sounds 's'all," She shoots up as soon as Mickey's off of her.

Mickey puts her hands on her hips, staring at the broken beam, "Damn."

"Are you OK?" Cap asks her.

"Fine," Mickey picks up the yellow lockbox that went flying out of Cap's hand, "This better have been worth almost getting a concussion for," She furrows her brows as she gives the box a shake, "Doesn't sound like anything's in here," She says. She unlocks the box with the key.

Inside the box is a.....

Cap bursts out into laughter, "Oh, _God_, no _way_!"

Mickey's face twisted in disgust, "Now _that_, is nasty," She flips the box. A single item falls out.

Cap grabs and unfolds the pornographic magazine. On the cover was a pretty dark - haired woman with olive skin, exiting a shower, steam and a towel covering her sensitive bits, "Who in God's name saves _this_ for someone? I woulda' just kept it!"

"Who knows," Mickey sighs, "A day of walking for some idiot's porn stash, and a pound of metal scraps."

"Hey, at least it's something," Cap says, opening the magazine. She holds it sideways, and a folded poster of a pale woman laying in a bed of red silk falls open. Cap whistles.

Mickey makes a noise of disgust in the back of her throat, "You are _not_ taking that cum - stained rag with us."

"Well, I did tell Kim I'd bring her back something nice," Cap closes the magazine, throwing it back into the lockbox on the ground. Mickey gives her a glare and a shake of her head, walking out of the cabin. Cap gives the magazine one last, jokingly - wistful glance, before joining her.

With the light dimming quickly into the night, the two set up camp. The two took their collected scraps, tying the tarp up and shoving it into the last cabin. The previous inhabitants had set up a small fire pit surrounded by rocks in the middle of the site, Cap setting up her bedroll on one side, Mickey the other. Cap unloads her pack, taking out a pot with a metal stand. She pours some of her water, some withered vegetables, and chunks of dried rabbit jerky into the pot, putting a cover over the top.

While dinner cooks, Mickey sits quietly on her side. She keeps her legs crossed, staring into the fire. The orange flames bounce off of her platinum plaited hair and her piercings. Cap coughs, breaking the silence.

"So, I know I haven't been around lately this week. How've you been, Mickey?"

Mickey shrugs, "Been fine," She doesn't move her gaze from the fire.

Taking two bowls, Cap shovels out some rabbit stew. It's thick and heavy, vegetables and meat dark in a gold - colored broth. She hands one bowl to Mickey.

"It doesn't sound too fine to me."

Mickey takes the bowl without a word. Cap pauses, then sits down in the grass next to her. Mickey sighs.

"I don't need you to feel sorry for me," she grumbles.

"I don't feel sorry for you," Cap says, handing her a spoon, "I just think you need someone on your side 's'all."

Mickey chuckles sadly, "I _had_ people on my side," She looks at Cap, "I had my sister. I had my pops. Now they're both gone, and I got nobody."

Mickey hadn't talked about her sister since she buried her, and _never_ talked about her father. From the stories Cap had heard, their dad was an old - school guy with a sadistic streak. What made him a bigwig was his ability to plan ahead and think strategy.

Cap puts her bowl down, crossing her legs, "What about your mom?"

Mickey's lips purse, "Somewhere out East. I was eight years old when my dad took me and Lou with him."

"I hear it's pretty bad out there. Lot's of wasteland."

With a nod, Mickey's eyes close, "I don't even know if she's alive or not," she covers her face with her hands, letting out a frustrated, sad groan, "Fuck, she'd _hate_ me if she could see me now. I promised her," Mickey flashes two fingers. Firelight flickers off of her wet eyes, "Two things. I promised her I would watch over my sister, and I promised her I wouldn't become like my dad," she grabs the bowl Cap had handed her. With a growl, she tosses it into the fire.

"You could always try and find her," Caps offers quietly.

Mickey laughs low, almost mockingly. It echoes off the trees around them, haunting, "You think she'd wanna see me if she knew what I did? It's a waste of fucking time."

"I don't know. If I left my moms at a young age, I think they'd wanna know that I'm still alive."

"You - wait, did you say moms?"

Cap shrugs, "Yeah, moms, plural. Two of 'em!" Every time she mentioned having more than two moms, people always did a double - take. From a young age, Cap was always used to people asking strange and invasive questions, but she usually shrugged these off (or did more than shrugging, if she decided their questions were a little invasive and their stares were a little too judgemental.)

Mickey blinks, "Oh."

The two stare into the fire for what Cap feels is an eternity. She wants to ask Mickey more questions, offer her support, but all of her braincells fly out the window, almost afraid to speak, like her voice could ruin the situation.

"Sorry about your bowl," Mickey says, finally, breaking the awful, awful silence.

"It's fine. I can make another."

The two clean up, taking up their respective sides of the fire. Whenever Cap looks up, she keeps catching Mickey staring at her.

"Is it weird that I have two moms?" Cap asks her from across the fire.

Mickey settles onto the bedroll, "'Course not. But with the Highwaymen, people don't have parents, let alone two of 'em. Bloodlines count with leaders, leaving a kid to take their place when they pass, but raising children is left to midwives and midhusbands. When I was a kid, I used to be jealous of all the children who didn't know their own parents."

"Why?"

"They were fucking _free_. The Highwaymen let kids run wild, no real expectations for them. Me and Lou? We got stuck with our pops at every meeting, every event, of every day. Kept us cooped up all day with lessons and shit. I mean, we thrived in there, but we were like fuckin' plague carriers to the other kids. None of 'em messed with us."

"Sounds lonely."

"We had each other."

Cap's fingers lock behind her head, staring up at the night sky, "You know what they say, a gilded cage is still a cage."

Silence answers her, and the night pulls Cap into a deep sleep.

  
-

A clap of thunder shakes Cap awake. It's early morning, and Cap bundles her windbreaker tighter over her shoulders. Cap looks to the North, seeing the pale morning sky being swallowed up by dark clouds.

"Shit," she says, standing, "Hey, Mickey?" She calls across the now smoldering fire.

Mickey's back was towards her, and after a few seconds, Cap hears a groggy groan, "_What_?"

"Big storm, comin' our way. We should pack up, get inside before it starts pourin'."

Another groan, and Mickey's body shifts on her bedroll. She turns on her other side, scowling, "_Fuck_ rain."

Cap grins, "Not a morning person?"

"Not a _get's - woken - up_ person."

The two get to work on collecting their things. They finish collecting the tarp and metal scraps just as droplets fall from the sky.

From the roofed porch of the cabin with the lockbox, Cap watches as sheets of rain fall, soaking everything as far as her eyes can see. A clap of thunder jolts her, and she grips onto banister beam of the porch.

"Watching the rain?" Mickey asks, leaning against the doorway, hands on her hips, "Shitty way to pass the time."

"Didn't rain much out in Cali. I always liked watching a storm roll in," she hears Mickey snort behind her. Cap turns, and Mickey is staring. It didn't feel judgemental, it felt curious.

"Feels like it rains every other week around here," Mickey says, fixing her gloves, "Makes the trek back Hell. Wish we took a bike."

"Ah, who needs a bike?" she gestures down to her sneakers, "We've got our boots! Just as good."

With an entertained huff, Mickey shifts in the doorway, "Well, as soon as this rain lets up, we're puttin' these boots to work. There's still that other site you wanted to check out."

The rain, however, had other plans. The morning passes by quickly, rain falling in heavy sheets, Mickey and Cap sharing some fruit Cap had stashed away. Mickey was kind enough to steal some magazines from the library, just to stave off the boredom. Cap sits on the kitchen counter, while Mickey sits at the foot of the bed in the corner.

Cap finds herself less concerned with her years - old edition of _Thrasher_, and more concerned with Mickey. Mickey was a quiet reader, who read with a scrunched brow and a focused gaz, thumbing through a strange art magazine. Every few minutes, she would flip her page. Cap can't help but notice how the soft, rainy light reflects off her plaits, catching her piercings.

Mickey has a few piercings, on her upper and bottom lip, a small ring on her nose. _Wonder, does she have anymore?_ She wore no ear piercings, and Cap was sure there was no tongue piercing either. And Cap's mind wanders more down.

She's seen people with their collarbones pierced, but those don't seem Mickey's style, even if she had them.

_Maybe lower?_

Nipple piercings crossed her mind. From what she's seen, they're supposed to be 'cool' or 'sexy,' but Cap always found them particularly painful - looking. Still, an image of Mickey shirtless crosses her mind, two little rings hanging from her chest.

Cap shakes her head, _What are you doing?_ She turns back to her magazine, trying to focus on the image of a man kick - flipping down a flight of stairs.

But she can't stop thinking about piercings even lower. In her head, she can picture Mickey focused on reassembling a rifle, shirt off sports bra on, a silver bead with a jewel set in her bellybutton.

Now _those_, Cap always found endearing. They were cool, something small that only someone close would know was there. She had an ex - girlfriend, way back in Cali, who had one. And oh, did it feel good to kiss down her stomach and flit her tongue over that piercing.

And that girl's face in the memory quickly shifts to Mickey's, her lips parted, smiling.

Cap swears she can hear a moan.

_Jesus, dude, relax!_ She closes her magazine, hopping down from the counter.

"I need some fresh air," she says, and before Mickey can respond, Cap darts out of the cabin.

  
-

  
Cold rain beats heavily down on Cap. She had taken her hat and windbreaker off in the cabin, and so stands in only a tank top, her jeans, and her sneakers. Getting soaked, Cap runs a hand through her hair. _Nothing like a cold shower to clear your mind._

"Cap! What the fuck are you doing?" Mickey calls from the dilapidated porch.

Cap doesn't turn, instead closing her eyes, raising her arms to the sky, "Enjoying the fresh air!" _Please go back inside._ She takes a step forward.

Her sneaker slips in the mud.

The world flips. The back of Cap's head smashes into the soggy ground. her ears rings, drowning out the sound of rain and thunder.

"Ah...._shit,_" she says. _Well, I left the cabin to avoid embarrassing myself, but it looks like fate wasn't gonna stop me._

"Are you OK?" Mickey asks, trudging through the mud to her.

_No,_ "Yeah," mud and cold rain drench her shirt, seeping into her pants and shoes.

Mickey stands over her, one eyebrow raised, "You're crazy," she says, holding out a hand.

Cap takes it, "That's what they tell me."

Mickey hauls her to her feet, scanning her, "Damn, you're soaked."

Cap looks down at herself. Her tank is clinging close to her chest. She tries to brush mud off her clothes, only succeeding in smearing it, "Oh, _Goddamn_ it."

With a snort, Mickey jerks her head back to the cabin, "You brought extra clothes, right?"

"Yeah," she trudges past Mickey, going inside. She opens her pack, taking out a clean tank top and a pair of cargos. As she kneels, she feels a light touch graze the back of her neck.

Cap freezes.

The touch starts from the back of her skull, following down her neckline, stopping between her shoulders.

"Where's this from?" Mickey asks her, tracing a scar curiously.

Cap exhales, "Got shot, back in Cali."

"You get the guy?"

"Guy was already long dead. I wasn't paying attention, walked into a booby - trapped bunker. Shotgun was old enough and far away enough that I lived, but fuck, did it hurt."

"Sounds like that's a normal thing for you. Just stumbling around until someone comes to fuck up your day."

"Then I return the favor and fuck up theirs," Cap lifts her tank off, letting it slop onto the floor in a wet heap.

Mickey whistles, "Whoah," her fingers trail lower, tracing a scar in the middle of Cap's spine, "This is a nasty gash, Cap," one finger traces along the 5 inch scar. It's deep, almost a centimeter in.

Swallowing harshly, Cap answers, "Got it the first night I came to the valley," she can still feel some of the burning wreckage over her, ghosts of feelings she thinks will never leave her. She lets out a shaky breath as Mickey still traces along, softer this time.

_That doesn't feel so curious._

Thunder cracks along the sky, the room being lit white with lightning.

"Rain's coming down hard," Mickey's hand moves to Cap's shoulder, rubbing the muscle, "Might keeping going until late."

Cap shivers, "Might have to stay another night."

She can feel Mickey's grin burn right through her, "Another night? They might get suspicious."

"I don't care what they think," Cap says, body flushing as Mickey's other hand settles on her other shoulder, "And what are they gonna do? Send out a search party?" _I'm doing this. I'm really doing this._

Mickey huffs a laugh, "Wouldn't put it past Old Nick Rye," her hands move down, smoothing over Cap's collarbone.

Sighing low, Cap feels Mickey loom over her.

"Why don't you step out of those clothes, Cap. You'll catch a cold."


End file.
